


Domino Effect

by KoraKwidditch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Hermione Granger, Amnesia, Christmas Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Minor Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott - Freeform, Muggle London, Not Epilogue Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Hermione Granger, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Retreat to Muggle London, Theodore Nott in the Muggle World, based on a movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoraKwidditch/pseuds/KoraKwidditch
Summary: Resolved to live her life in Muggle London, Hermione Granger finally felt free. Free from the Ministry, free from her celebrity status and everything that entailed.But who knew that one cataclysmal incident would lead her straight into the Malfoy's den and down a series of unfortunate events?At least they think she's a Muggle.**A Dramione retelling of While You Were Sleeping**
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 21
Kudos: 41
Collections: Dramione RomCom Fest





	Domino Effect

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneRomComFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneRomComFest) collection. 



> Hi all! I'm so excited to bring the beginning of this story to you. It's actually a plunny I've been sitting on since FEBRUARY but never had a reason to actually sit down and write it. 
> 
> So I was EXTREMELY excited for the Dramione Romcom Fest, because that meant I finally DID have an excuse!! Thank you so much to Quin Talon and NuclearNik for hosting this fest!!
> 
> My movie was While You Were Sleeping, if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend you do because it is an adorable and classic Sandra Bullock 90's romcom! (but you definitely don't need to in order to read my story!)
> 
> Shoutout to my loves, FaeOrabel and WordsmithMusings, for Alphaing. This work is Grammarly beta'd so any mistakes remaining are my own. Hope you enjoy!!
> 
> *Thank you to KWritesDramione for the manip below!*

**Chapter One**

Hermione sighed as she stepped onto her daily London tube ride, bracing herself against the cold winter air. Thankful for her thick coat, she wrapped it tighter around herself as she shuffled past an elderly man that stood by the door. Grabbing a nearby empty seat, Hermione rubbed her hands together and pulled her purse onto her lap. 

Today was just like any other, but with Christmas just around the corner, Hermione filled with excitement at the decorations in the tube. Christmas had always been her favourite holiday, and though only living in Muggle London for the better part of five years, she managed to collect quite an array of decorations and attire. 

Her sweater today exemplified her love for the holiday, the dark red colour reminding her so much of Gryffindor. A tinsel-decorated tree spread across the front, and if she pressed the button located on the inside of her sleeve, lights on the edges would twinkle. 

As the tube pulled into her station, Hermione stood and exited with the crowd as she made her way to work. The stone facade of the bookshop she worked at, FoxTale, was strung with a varying multitude of lights, the large glass windows painstakingly hung with oversized ornaments. Hermione had made sure to decorate the store for every holiday, though Christmas caused her to do just a little bit extra.

The warm air greeted her as she stepped through the doors, the store already open and busy. She was glad for the crowds of people that came through this time of year; it kept her occupied and mind off the loneliness that threatened to creep in. 

It had been hard to leave the wizarding world after the war, but leave it she did. She had tried to work at the Ministry in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. But at every left turn, she found reporters breathing down her neck, coworkers gossiping about her handed success, or the Wizengamot denying each new law she tried to enact. Hermione had barely lasted a year in that life until one day, a reporter divulged they had tracked down her parents in Australia and attempted to interview them. They were still obliviated, still didn’t know who she was; she had tried to overturn the spell, but nothing worked. 

The idea that some greasy Daily Prophet reporter followed and approached her parents had made her blood boil, and in an instant, she hexed the man into unconsciousness and ran. Ran from her miserable life, and her celebrity status, ran from everything she had ever worked for or achieved. 

Now, five years later, here she was—a nobody working at a chain bookstore going by the name of Jean, barely making enough money to pay rent for her rundown, too-small flat. She was thankful at least for Harry and Ron; they kept her afloat. Harry helped transfer her money from Gringotts to Muggle money on occasion, and Ron regularly sent her wizarding candy and random WWW products that she missed dearly.

The boys came round now and then, and Hermione still regularly visited the Burrow. Sunday dinners were one of her favourite things, but she had enacted one rule for the Weasley for her to be able to come. There was to be absolutely no discussion of anything related to the Ministry or Wizarding news. Instead, the only allowed conversations were of their families and lives, but nothing of work or gossip. It had been hard at first, but eventually, the Weasley’s got the hang of it. They always told her it was a nice change of pace, and that if it allowed her to come to see them, they would do it with no questions asked. Her busy schedule only allowed her to visit them once or twice a month, but she always looked forward to it. 

“Good morning, Jean!” Her co-worker Carole greeted behind the counter. 

“Morning! How’s it been so far?” 

“Oh, busy as usual.” Carole leant forward, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder. “Your eye candy is at the cafe, though. Came in not that long ago, so he should be here for a while.” 

Hermione felt her face flush eight shades of scarlet. Carole was the only one that knew of her infatuation with the mystery man Hermione dubbed Mocha Latte—because that was what he always ordered. He began frequenting the bookshop almost a year ago, and Hermione instantly found herself drawn to him. There was a familiarity about him that she couldn’t quite place, but she supposed he just had one of those classically handsome faces. 

Of course, she never worked up the courage to actually speak to him. 

As she prepared herself for the start of her shift, she purposely offered to stock the shelves so she could catch a better glimpse of Mocha Latte. He only came to the store on Sundays, so the fact he was here on a Thursday was quite an oddity. Not that she minded, of course, the Christmas ghost must be blessing her with an extra sighting of the man before the holiday. 

Nonchalantly hiding in the Mystery section and very slowly filling in the shelves, Hermione found him sitting at his usual table in the Cafe, his face buried in a thick book. The cover read _The History of Castles_ , and Hermione's heart did a little flip. Leave it to her to not only fall for a man whose name she didn’t know, but also one that enjoyed reading non-fiction. 

She found herself frequently daydreaming of what it would be like to be engaged to him—a Muggle. To lose the name Granger and everything that came with it; the fame, the heartache. But then they would have children, and the possibility of magical children was unavoidable. They would go off to Hogwarts and discover just who Hermione was to the wizarding world, and everything would be ruined. The Prophet would find her; the Ministry would find her. Her life as just a regular person would be over. These thoughts always caused her feet to stay rooted to the spot, rather than risk speaking to him.

The day passed in a blur; Mocha Latte lingered at his seat for a few hours but vacated the store before Hermione’s lunch break, so the rest of her shift was nothing short of boring. Just as she rang up the last customer before closing the shop for the day, her boss, Harold, called her and Carole over. 

“Great job today, ladies,” he said with a smile. “I hate to do this on such short notice, but corporate forgot to send out an essential inventory sheet. They asked that someone be here on Christmas to do it, it’ll pay holiday pay _and_ overtime. Now, Carole, I know you’ve got your kids to worry about so...” he trailed off, glancing to Hermione. 

She already knew this would happen; she worked nearly every holiday. This was, however, the first time corporate had asked them to work on Christmas. But she had no family; the Weasley’s wouldn’t miss having her, so it only made sense that Hermione would be the one to work. 

“I can do it,” she told her boss, who clapped his large hands together in delight. “I’ll work Christmas. It’s just inventory, and we’ll be closed anyway.”

Carole thanked her, promising to bring her sticky toffee pudding the day after as a thank you. Hermione waved her off; it was only right she work the holiday so Carole could enjoy it with her family, firmly ignoring the pang in her chest at having none. 

* * *

Christmas came much too soon, and as Hermione sat at the front desk of FoxTale watching the hours tick by, she sighed for the umpteenth time. The inventory was taking way too long, and having already been there for nearly three hours, Hermione figured perhaps a touch of magic could speed things along. 

She still practised magic every now and then, and of course, carried her wand with her everywhere she went. If the war taught her anything, it was to be prepared at all times. Figuring out what spells wouldn’t mess with technology had been the most challenging part, it was usually the ones that didn’t require too much magic, like enchanting items. 

Laughing lightly at the memory of her microwave exploding when she once cast an Accio to bring her book to the living room, Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket. The vine wood sat lightly in her hand, the magic electrifying her skin. Tapping the tip of her wand to the pen and clipboard, she smiled widely as it began to fill out the inventory spreadsheet for her. Luckily the security cameras in the store were all fake, or someone would have found some odd things over the years. 

Tucking into _The History of Castles_ , Hermione sipped her tea while she tried to figure out what had Mocha Latte so interested.

An hour later, the pen and clipboard clattered back to her desk, the forms completely filled out. Hermione delighted that she would get to leave work early. Maybe even a quick pop-in to the Weasleys would be possible! 

Gathering her coat and purse, she exited the store and locked up, bracing against the frigid winter air. Snow began to fall as she walked toward the Tube, and she was thankful that the streets were mostly empty—it made the walk faster. 

To her surprise, the underground was also empty, and as she swiped her Oyster card over the terminal and stepped through the metal gates, she found only one person waiting for the train. 

Glancing at the face, she recognised the familiar sandy blonde hair of Mocha Latte, a thrill going through her that they would share a compartment. As she walked closer, someone suddenly shouldered her from behind, and two teenage boys rushed by her, one pulling out a knife and angling it at Mocha Latte. 

“Oi! Fancy pants!” One yelled, “Give us your wallet.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Mocha Latte replied. It was the first time Hermione had ever heard him speak, and if she weren’t so terrified at the fact the man was about to be robbed, she would have melted at the sound. 

“You ‘eard me. Your wallet, empty it out.” He jabbed the knife forward, and Mocha Latte jolted back to avoid it, his feet dangerously close to the edge of the platform. 

The other boy rushed forward and snatched at Mocha Latte’s jacket, the pair instantly getting into a scuffle. Hermione stood there, open-mouthed, unsure of what to do. She could use her magic, of course, but then would have to appear before the Wizengamot for using it on a Muggle. 

Instead of pulling her wand from her pocket, she called out, hoping to distract them long enough for Mocha Latte to get the advantage. “Hey! Stop that!” 

The one with the knife glanced at her, but the other continued to shove at the man, and Hermione watched in horror as he let go of Mocha Latte’s jacket, causing him to stumble backwards and fall to the tracks below. 

The two boys ran in the opposite direction as Hermione rushed forward, dropping to her knees at the edge of the platform. Mocha Latte laid on the tracks, unconscious, and with horror, Hermione heard the familiar sound of an approaching train.

“Sir!” she called out, lying flat against the concrete. “Sir, get up! A train is coming!” 

Glancing up at the sound of screeching wheels, Hermione’s heart thudded in her ears as the tube approached closer. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled, and without another thought, jumped down to the tracks. She tried to shake Mocha Latte awake, but he was out cold. Trying to think of what to do, Hermione began to panic; she couldn’t very well use her wand to move him—who knows what magic would do to the electric tube. 

Leaning over the man and grabbing his coat, she tumbled them sideways and off the tracks. The train zoomed by them in a rush of air, and Hermione quickly checked over Mocha Latte to ensure he was alright. Still out cold, Hermione felt through his soft hair and felt dread settle in her stomach when her hand came away wet and red. 

His head was bleeding, and there was nothing Hermione could do, but she had to try something. Pulling her wand out, she cast the smallest of healing charms, just light enough to stop the bleeding. When no adverse effects happened from using magic, she breathed a sigh of relief and pocketed her wand again. Wizengamot be damned, she couldn’t just let this man bleed to death below her—she would have Harry deal with them. The woodsy scent of his cologne filled her nose as she rested her forehead to his firm chest, laughing lightly at the fact she managed to roll them to safety.

After what seemed like an eternity, the train finally passed them, and Hermione peeked her head above the platform, thankful a few people were waiting that saw what happened. 

“Oh, Miss—you’re a hero!” an elderly woman called out as two men came down to carry Mocha Latte back to the platform. “The police are on their way with an ambulance to take him to the hospital.” 

Hermione itched to levitate Mocha Latte herself as the men haphazardly lifted him to the concrete above. She could do nothing but watch at this point as they laid him down, and when the police finally came, she told them everything that happened. The paramedics loaded Mocha Latte onto a stretcher, and Hermione was able to work out which hospital they were taking him to. 

When she rushed through the lobby not but half-an-hour later, frantic and out of breath, she immediately went to the front desk and tried to explain who she was looking for. 

“I’m here to see—there was a man—”

“Name?” the unamused desk clerk asked, her bright red fingernails poised over a computer keyboard. 

“Um, I don’t—” Nerves filled her stomach as she nearly admitted she didn’t even know his name. Her gaze flickered to the emergency room doors to her right, and she rushed towards them when she saw the paramedics wheeling in Mocha Latte on the other side. Watching as a doctor and a handful of nurses carted him out of view, Hermione sighed and covered her mouth. 

“I was going to marry that man,” she mumbled to herself. 

“Excuse me.” 

Hermione turned to find an older woman in a nurses uniform, a kind smile spread across her lips. “Follow me, dear. I can take you to him.” 

Hermione followed the nurse to the intensive care wing, all the while her heart thundering in her chest and nerves skyrocketed. What if he didn’t make it? What if she did something she wasn’t supposed to? 

When they reached the wing, the woman directed Hermione to a smaller waiting area. 

“I'll let them know you're here, and I’ll come get you when he's ready.”

“T-thank you,” Hermione muttered as she was left alone. 

Hours passed, each one more nerve-wracking than the last. Pacing didn’t help—it only made her thoughts race more, but sitting caused her nervous energy to bundle into a bomb set to explode. What was she even doing here? Mocha Latte was no one to her, just a man she fancied from her bookshop. 

“Excuse me, miss. He’s ready.” The same nurse from earlier smiled again and led her to a private room. 

The sight of Mocha Latte unconscious, a breathing tube down his throat and wires attached to every spot of skin they could find had Hermione rushing forward. She gripped his cold hand tightly, and the sound of the door clicking closed told her the nurse had left them alone. 

“You poor man,” Hermione whispered, dropping his hand to look him over. Hermione walked around the bed and noticed his chart hanging from the end of it. If she could figure out what was ailing him, maybe she could try to make some potions, or have Harry buy some for her. No, that would take too long, she would have to sneak into Diagon Alley and get them herself. 

Grabbing his chart, she sat in a chair at the back of the room and began to read it over. Just before she could get to his condition, a loud chattering started to draw closer. The door swung open, and in walked a conglomerate of people she never thought she would ever see again. 

The Malfoy’s. 

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy rushed forward to the man’s bed, Narcissa slyly pulling out her wand to cast over him while Lucius hung back with an odd look of worry on his face.

Hermione’s stomach turned to a leaden ball—who was Mocha Latte to them? He had to be a Wizard, or possibly a hidden squid, that much was obvious. The thought of Draco entering had her hands shaking, but instead, a woman strolled through the door, a small boy in tow. 

“How is he, Cissy?”

Dread filled every vein in Hermione’s body when she recognised the woman as Andromeda Tonks. The little boy, whose hair suddenly changed to match the shade of Mocha Latte’s, must be Teddy. 

What in the hell was going on?

Quickly checking the disillusionment charm she placed on herself every morning, Hermione thanked every deity in existence. She didn’t know what she would do if the Malfoy’s recognised her.

“Can’t believe the git landed himself in a Muggle hospital,” a deep voice stated from outside the room. Hermione continued to stare open-mouthed and in shock as Blaise Zabini came to stand next to Andromeda. 

Narcissa shot a dark look to Blaise, who in turn put his hands up in defence. 

“He seems to be alright for the most part...” Narcissa mused, “Though something is wrong with his head, my magic can’t reach it.” 

A knock at the open door had the group, including Hermione, jumping. Narcissa quickly hid her wand as a doctor entered the room. 

“Hello, are you Theodore’s family?” 

A numbing realisation dawned on Hermione.

Theodore. 

Theodore Nott. 

Mocha Latte suddenly became all too familiar, and now the reason why Hermione thought she recognised him was evident. 

Hermione had been pining after Theodore _Fucking_ Nott. 


End file.
